Ephemeral
by TheSilverNightshade
Summary: Despite all the wars they have fared, irrespective of all the blood that spilled, regardless of all the hits they've taken, at the end of the day, the seven heroes are just teenagers. Even if the time they spend off of the battlefield is fleeting, it is priceless. After all, life is short, and precious moments are ephemeral.
1. Megara

**_Just a playful little interaction between some of the kiddos- nothing too grandiose._**

* * *

Herry wolfed down a sub and glanced around the small grocery store. He spotted the fighter and the leader lacing hands in the sweets corner (Coincidence? Maybe not.) then the purple-haired warrior and the huntress joking around in the produce isle. As he watched, a thought occurred to him, and then he absent-mindedly remarked, "Why don't I have a girlfriend?"

As the brawn talked, he completely forgot that he still had half of a roast beef in his mouth, so he ended up spraying it on Neil as he talked. _Darn. What a waste of five bucks…._

Upon impact, the blonde let out a shrill scream, then dove behind Odie, who was conveniently standing beside him. Once he finally recovered from the whole ordeal, he whipped out his mirror to assess the damage, then shot a murderous glare at the brawn. "Oh, I don't know. Maybe because you're a slob with _no_ sense of _class_ or _sophistication_!"

The brawn cocked his head and gave Neil and odd look. "Since when are girls interested in _'class'_ and _'sophistication'_?"

At this, Neil groaned and rubbed his face.

"And _this_ is why he is doomed to be a bachelor."

Herry frowned and just got more perplexed by the minute and looked at Odie, who, for his part, just shrugged.

"Hey, Odie- did Hercules ever have a girlfriend?" Herry suddenly blurted out.

Odie face-palmed and shook his head. "He had a wife, Herry. Her name was Megara."

"And? What happened to her?" Herry's pressed, his face lighting up at the revelation.

"Hercules killed her…" Odie muttered.

"Oh." Herry frowned, quite disappointed, but a few moments later, a thought crossed his mind.

"Wait…does that mean that if I get a girlfriend, I'm doomed to kill her too?!"

The brains and the good-looking exchanged glances, then glanced at Herry, blank-faced and expressionless.

Finally, Odie broke the award silence with a simple, 'I don't know'

Herry sighed and looked away, his gaze wandering onto a pretty brunette that was entering the store. A grin crossed his face and, he proceeding to walk over to her, as if he were in some sort of trance.

Neil watched his friend, an air of smugness overcoming him.

"Odie, remind me to take a hiatus for the funeral…"

* * *

**Funny- I just realized that Odie, Herry and Neil are the perfect **trio**.**

**Herry and his counter-intuitive remarks, plus Odie and his occasional sass, multiplied by Neil's eccentric snarky and cocky demeanor = gold.**


	2. Movies

**Just a silly thing I whipped up. I always thought it would be fun to stuff the titans in a conflicting, and essentially pointless situation. Enjoy!**

**[Note: The following is a _parody_]**

* * *

_A Saturday night. A Saturday night with no homework. A Saturday night with no homework or battle training. A Saturday night with no homework or battle training or Cronus. This could only call for one thing…stay-in move night._

_The seven titans were figuring just about the same thing, but all seven of them were thinking the same exact thing at the exact same time, which was unfortunate. Although it may appear to be nothing more than a mere coincidence, the act of multiple people thinking of the same thing at the same time is a pure calamity. A calamity, because misunderstandings and arguments are just bound to happen._

_And so they did._

* * *

Atlanta slammed her fist on the side of the couch and announced that the team was going to watch a new female chick flick action thriller, then added a killer

"Anyone wanna try and argue with that?"

_Naturally, Archie did want to argue with that._

"Who wants to spend two hours of their life watching some crappy movie with some stupid girl who can't even-" the purple-haired warrior cut in.

Needless to say, Atlanta was -obviously- pissed, so, like usual, she made no haste in expressing her discontent.

Neil's 'Ooo…that's gotta hurt…' statement seemed more of an understatement just then….

Herry graciously yanked the two apart upon Jay's orders, but not without grunting something related to how the Avengers was way better.

Amid the chaos, Odie silently argued for Star Wars, while Theresa advocated for Mean Girls.

In an apparent split second, the Huntress, the Warrior, the Fighter, the Brains and the Brawn turned to their leader, pleading, pouting, and puppy-eyed expressions plastered on their faces.

At this, Jay groaned and awkwardly rubbed his face. He was terrific at making battle calls and action plans, but choosing one movie and potentially setting up a disastrous night? Not so much.

The teen was just about to speak when the realization hit him; the passionate b-movie blondie hadn't campaigned for his beloved Bad Moon or Buffy the Vampire Slayer sagas.

That in itself was pretty suspicious. And scary.

So, keeping with his ingenious leader personality, Jay did what any ingenious leader would do; turn around and see what the hell Neil was doing.

Neil had apparently taken advantage of the situation- since he was smack in front of the DVD Player.

Jay naturally didn't appreciate his resourcefulness.

"Neil. What do you think you're doing?" he grumbled.

The blonde flinched guiltily and shook his head.

"Nothing…" he replied slyly.

Jay narrowed his eyes and tried to make out the title of the DVD.

"Neil. What's the title?"

The Good-Looking smiled nervously and gulped. "Fifty…Shades…of….Grey. I don't suppose you've heard of it?"

Perhaps it was just a mere coincidence, but the room went dead silent just then.

"…What…?" Neil shrugged, finally breaking the silence.

Before any of his teammates could get a word out, he punched the 'open' button of the player, only to be met with an odd clunk noise.

Odie was the first to snap back to reality, then he chuckled slightly and rubbed his arm.

"Whoops…I almost forgot to tell you guys- the DVD player is broken."


	3. Hats

**Thank you for the lovely reviews, midoritree and HoneyGoddess57! They seriously made my day!**

**Without further ado, here's an installment set a few months after Trojan Horse and pre-Phantom Rising, inspired by none other than the always wonderful Mido!**

* * *

**T**he huntress scowled and clenched her jaw. It had been six months already, but he was still at it. If he didn't shove a pie in his pie hole, she swore she'd do it for him.

**J**ay just groaned and rubbed the bridge of his nose. When he wasn't fighting harpies, Minotaurs, and certain gods of time, he had to battle daily nuisances like this.

**T**he purple-haired warrior hissed. The hat wasn't even remarkable- it was a stupid, conceited thing for stupid, conceited people. And, at least as Archie figured, an overload of stupidity isn't ludicrous; it's inane beyond words.

**O**die, for one, didn't seem immediately affected. He was too caught up in his alternate reality filled with C++, Java Script, and syntax, and the last time he checked, annoying people in annoying hats being annoying had no place in it.

**T**he redhead psychic tapped her finger impatiently. How could he possibly think this foolery made him seem any more handsome? No, hat or not, he still came off as the exact same person she perceived him to be when she first met him; a lucky goof with a head so big it could hardly fit through the door. Although it was somehow small enough to fit a ridiculous hat on.

**T**he brawny teen in the green shirt couldn't figure out what the fuss was about for all he was worth. Sure, maybe it was kind of annoying, but if Neil wanted to parade around the Brownstone in his captains' hat, even if the whole leadership thing had subsided months before, so be it. After all, the blonde had a right to do so. Zeus, could he help being the descendant of the most self-centered man in history? Could he help it if the silly hat accentuated his face in a nice way? Could he help being so handsome?

* * *

**Herry x Neil never occurred to me until I read Mido's amazing slashes, so today realization finally hit me and I just went for it. It's not too major, but I thought it would be nice to explore a candid ship moment.**

**By the way midoritree- I just thought of another reason Herry x Neil would totally work- since Herry isn't the brightest bulb in the chandelier, he has the ability to think counter-intuitively and take things in **rawly** and literally, so he could probably appreciate Neil's good looks more than the others...plus I can't really recall him making crude comments about Neil's appearance or his attitude?**


	4. Melancholia

**I was planning on writing something happy-go-lucky, but I decided to have a go at depicting the titans' not-so-glorious moments. I'd usually say enjoy, but this isn't exactly a feel-good piece so I don't know. Hahaha.**

**Notes:**

**Mido**** Awww, thank you, thank you. They do make a mighty fine pairing, even though, like you pointed out, it's a bit unhealthy. Hahahaha. You are too sweet and I'm glad you enjoyed it (and I'm honored that you think I nailed their personalities!** **:,D) As always, you make my day. c:**

**HoneyGoddess**** Again, thank you for the wonderful review! I'm touched that you thought I did the drabbles justice, and no, I actually had no idea. I am totally not looking it up right now- no siree *whistles innocently***

* * *

**Archie**

The purple-haired warrior pummeled his punch bag like he did every day. Except today, he wrestled with it more aggressively, despite the weary expression on his face. We're sorry Archie. _We simply cannot publish work like this._ They had said. _It's too raw…too liberal….too….. blah blah blah._ Yeah right. More like 'this is too intellectual for our nit-witted minds'. Archie clenched his jaw and pulled his arm back before letting one fly.

_This one was for humiliating rejection._

Then he reared up and viciously leaped at the bag.

_And this one was for the cheesy sympathy._

**Atlanta**

She slammed her door with such vigor, that even the brawn was startled by her strength. She slammed it hard. Slammed it tight. She swore she would have smashed the coach's head against the wall. That would've shown him what a girl was capable of doing. Far better than any of the boys could ever do, anyways. That would've shown him he was wrong and she was right. And most of all, that would've shown him she was invincible. That she didn't know what pain was. Or what it meant to cry. But she didn't. She couldn't. She had given in.

**Jay**

He could take the stings. The cuts. The scrapes. The bruises. The gashes. The scars. Heck. He could take a hundred if he had to. But he couldn't take the sting of defeat. He couldn't take the sting of failing when he was needed most. He definitely couldn't take the sting of lost trust. And most of all, he couldn't take the scar of lost friends.

**Theresa**

The psychic sat in her car. She just sat there. She wasn't going anywhere. She couldn't go anywhere. At least not now. Not in the state she was in. She might crash and kill someone. But frankly, she didn't care if she killed herself. How could she have been so naïve? How could her powers fail to detect it? Or better yet, why did she so ardently believe that things would be any better. They were the same as always. No, scratch that. They were worse. Curse her father. Screw him. Screw all parents everywhere. Who needed them? What could they possibly provide you that you couldn't give yourself? The pain of being ignored? The anger of being less worthy than superficialities? The wretchedness of being screamed at? Verbally abused? Ha. Right. _That's_ what they could give you. _How could she forget_.

**Odie**

No video games today. No programming. No inventing. Nothing. What was the point? What was the point in creating, tinkering, and thinking if you failed at the only things you could do? How could his creation -which seemed more absurd the more he thought about it- how could it backfire in front of the CEOS? How could it melt down? Melt his one chance. He had gone in a patent hopeful, and he had come out empty handy, and empty hearted.

**Herry**

For the most part, the brawn wasn't accustomed to this feeling called rejection. He had no reason to be rejected. He had never invested in anything, so he could never lose anything. But life's funny that way. One day you think you're invincible. Ace number one. King of the hill. And the next, you're shutting yourself away. Thinking of what could have been. Wondering what you did wrong. Thinking of people that are long gone. People like Sybaris.

**Neil**

Where was his ego now? Where was his beautiful, precious ego that would help him escape from this? He wished he knew. Failure hurt. Rejection hurt more. Failing your opportunity to stardom; to becoming a household name and the face of designers everywhere was embarrassing. Thinking that they were actually right. Thinking that you really aren't good enough. Perfect enough. Beautiful enough. Special enough. Hating yourself for once in your life. That hurt more than anything. He wished he could be as oblivious and egoistic as he always was. He wished he could just move on. And most of all, he wished he could say that the tears streaming down his not-perfect-enough face were from anger. But that would be a lie.


	5. Sass

**goddessoftea**Ahhhhh, thank you so much! That's so sweet, and I will certainly keep going! ;3 (Until my death, that is.)

**HoneyGoddess57** Aww, thank you! c: I'm glad that my previous installment was able to achieve a pang of 'deep'ness!

* * *

**This new entree isn't much- in fact, I believe it's under one hundred words- but I hope it satisfies your likings!**

**[Note: This is a _parody_]**

* * *

The ginger-haired psychic was agitated.

_Scratch that._

She was _furious_.

In her rage, she cursed Jay and Archie for their "ludicrous" prank.

Jay simply listened to her tirade, partially because he was a good-natured person, and partially because it was kinda-sorta-totally his fault.

Archie, on the other hand, had practically had enough of the diva's dramatic rant, and he certainly wasn't going to put up with her crud any longer than he absolutely had to, so he simply blurted out the first brilliant thing that came to his mind.

"Oh yeah?! Well Jay and I are gonna do **_it_**. ON YOUR **BED**."


	6. Pyrrhic

**_goddessoftea and HoneyGoddess57_: aww, thank you for your kind words! :,D I'm overjoyed that you enjoyed the last drabble. Truth be told, I actually wrote 'Sass' because I got writer's block, and it was the only thing I could think of.**

* * *

**I always wondered what would happen if the titans defeated Cronus. I'm assuming that most 'class-mates' believe that the titans would be overjoyed, but the seven didn't seem so elated back in 'Cronus Vanquished', so this is essentially my projection of what would happen if the titans end up defeating Cronus.**

* * *

**pyr·rhic1**

**ˈpirik/**

**adjective**

**(of a victory) won at too great a cost to have been worthwhile for the victor.**

The titans always yearned to destroy Cronus. After all, he was just an annoying, ruthless flame that needed to be extinguished. They longed to see the day when he'd finally fall; when he'd finally be thrown back into the relentless jail of Tartarus for another millennia. They wished for it. They hoped for it. They desired it. They yearned as desperately as one does for something that is nearly out of reach. They longed for an ending, oblivious that the end would just set them back to the beginning.

They always knew they would cheer and celebrate when the triumphant day finally rolled around. But the day it happened, they didn't. Instead of rejoicing, instead of screaming in triumph and victory, they just stood there. Stone-faced and solemn. After all this time, they finally realized what victory really meant. It meant parting from the people they cared about most. It meant returning to the places they no longer loved. The places they no longer thought of with such warmth or tenderness. It meant leaving the only thing they knew- parting from their destiny. And most of all, it meant they would never grace each other. They would never again stay up until midnight, watching campy horror flicks, they would never pile up on the small couch and sleep together like a perfectly fitted puzzle; they would never hear each other's reassuring laughs, never see each other's cocky smiles. For the past few years, they had ardently fought for an end, without recognizing they were better off fighting for an eternity. The moment they had waited for with such zest and fondness for all these years was just bland and dismal. Pleasureless and pyrrhic.

It was all just a pyrrhic victory disguised in a neatly wrapped daydream.


	7. Maverick

**Thank you all for your continued support, lovely reviews, and abundant visits to my page and story! I am currently working on a longer one-shot, but in the meantime, I present this little drabble-like piece. This entry focuses on Theresa and Jay's feelings during the final moments of Phantom Rising, and I'm sure you know the rest.**

* * *

**mav·er·ick**

**an unorthodox or independent-minded person.**

All this time, she had been a useless link. Everyone told her that she was getting stronger, but when she was really needed, her powers failed. She was just another pawn in the game. But now, she was done. It was ending. The gods couldn't play with them any longer. Their lives would be theirs again. They were just moments away from being normal, free-roaming teenagers. She felt the tingling powers coarse through her like an intoxicating buzz. Now she controlled their rigged destiny. The prey was now the predator, and she had no regrets. She won. It was over. The game was done with. In a matter of seconds, she would be free.

But Jay knew that in a matter of moments, she would be dead.


	8. Evanesce

**Hello hello hello! First, I would like to say: WOW. JUST. WOW. All your reviews and support have simply been PHENOMENAL. Corny as it sounds, this is seriously an honor. I'll provide a quick summary, but first, I want acknowledge all the amazing readers and reviewers!**

* * *

**goddessoftea Aww, thank you dear! You are so sweet. I also get elated whenever you update- I literally fist-pump and drop everything to read your latest installment. (Your drabbles and one-shots are always so good, I usually re-read them. Ahaha.) Also, I completely agree with you. The show didn't really elaborate on what lead up to Theresa's crack; it just happened without prior explanation. So, with that being said, I also like to touch on what might have led up to the Phantom Rising events.**

**Nolls Thank you! I'm elated that you enjoy my writing, and I plan to continue until I die.**

**HoneyGoddess57 Thank you for the compliment, and thank you for loyally reading and reviewing my stories in general!**

**CrimsonRain101 Ahh, thank you, my friend! You are so kind, and I was so excited when I noticed you reviewed my stories! You are too kind, and haha, no worries! I love that analogy; I never had the brains to consider it before, but it's perfect! :D**

* * *

**_Summary wise:_**** I finally finished that one-shot I promised. It's rather quirky, and it's an original idea I've been toying with for quite some time. I always wondered why Theresa's mother was absent in the series. Most people believe she died, and I also am of accord with that notion, however, I also wondered, if that was the case, how did she even die in the first place? Well well well, if the CotT producers decided to hide the lady's story from us, then I'm just going to tell it myself.**

**For some reason, I like to envision Theresa's mother as a secretly troubled and wistful, aloof person, so I gave her a little personality, and there might just be a little** **like-mother-like daughter allusion? Whoops- maybe I gave away too much…**

**And wow this author's note is long. I'm just going to stop talking now and let you read what you came for. (Unless you don't read my tedious author's notes. In that case, kudos.)**

* * *

**Evanesce**

**Verb: Literary**

**To pass out of sight, memory, or existence.**

The elegant ginger-haired lady in the ranch had it all. She was graceful, charming, wealthy, and not to mention, extremely attractive. She was almost too good to be true; she was like some kind of princess in fairytale; a mary-sue, dare I say. Most of the women in the surrounding countryside longed to be like her, and most of the men would stare at her husband in jealousy. No one could ever imagine that anything could be amiss with her. After all, she had more than she would ever need, and she was perfectly normal and grounded. Or, at least they thought so.

So when she told her husband and her daughter that she wanted a break, they couldn't figure out what she needed a break from.

Nonetheless, she insisted.

"I need to get away. I just need to get away from it all. I'll be back." she had said, almost absentmindedly.

So she simply got away, leaving her fairytale palace and her fairytale life. That part she did.

But she never came back.

_She simply got away from it all._

* * *

Theresa had everything; wealth, power, beauty, charm, strength. But the one thing she didn't have, the one thing she never had, the one thing she would never have, was someone who lived for her. Someone who understood her. Someone she could trust and lean on for the rest of her life.

Her father was still there, but he was dead to her, and his superficial work and his thirst for wealth and power were his murderers. Her mother disappeared. And Jay. Her sweet, darling Jay. Was just as consumed in everything superficial like her father.

Their wedding day was quite normal. It wasn't really special, nor over-the-top, and they gave the impression of a happy couple.

Then one day, the aloof psychic realized her husband had died for her, and his logistic calculations and meticulous work were his killers.

"I need to get away. I just need to get away from it all. I'll be back." she had said, almost absentmindedly.

And she did get away. That part she did.

But she never came back. And this time, Jay couldn't blame the rain for the hot tears that streamed down his pallid face. She had simply gotten away, and no one would ever get her back.

* * *

**In short: You guys are amazing, and I killed Theresa again.**


	9. Flicker

**So it seems like I took another hiatus...but fear not, I live, and I whipped up a short little tale that seems to be a mixture of angst, ennui, and noir.**

**But before we delve into a deep, "feels" filled world, I'd like to acknowledge:**

**tea-with-emilia,****CrimsonRain101,**** and ****HoneyGoddess57**** for loyally reading all my installments, and nobly reviewing!**

**tea-with-emilia:**** Ahaha, thank you so much! ;) Like you, I've always felt compelled to give Theresa a backstory, and especially focus on her relationship with her mother! Also, I absolutely adore your new username. It's so symbolic, and props to you for creatively sending a message with something as seemingly trivial as a username. (Also, I'm super honored that you even squeal when I update o: )**

**CrimsonRain101:**** Thank you, man! (By the way, we're officially bros now)**

**HoneyGoddess57:**** I love how every author can vary a backstory and make it unique, and I think yours is a pleasant twist. Apparently I take these things to dark extremes. Nonetheless, thank you again!**

**One last side note: I already developed and wrote another installment that I crafted specifically for Halloween, so if you'd like to get into the spirit of it Class of the Titans style, watch out for it on October 31st! (Wow, that's literally just two days away...)**

_**And now, onto the show!**_

* * *

Midnight had finally overtaken the sleazy little town, and darkness was evidently looming, making it relatively impossible to see. Unlike the rest of urban New Olympia, the southern edges usually lacked illumination. _Why spend thousands of dollars on street lights if that specific region wasn't home to any _night life_?_ the politicians of the city would argue time and time again. Most of the south side's residents had to suppress their argumentative hubris; after all, it was true- the south was just lined with clusters of "affordable housing" projects, nothing special that would require lights during the wee hours.

Yet, the lack of lighting took a toll on the locals. Hardly anyone - if anyone, at that- would rack up the nerve to saunter into the streets at night. Lest they want to be deemed crazy or a nefarious gangster by the rest of the neighborhood. The moment darkness began to blanket the quiet streets, it seemed like parents would whisk their children away to the safety of their homes. Perhaps they were the crazy ones, allowing the iterating media and overzealous news coverage of scarce crimes to get them. They'd never bothered to consider this, though. In fact, it seemed like everyone in New Olympia lacked a critical mentality. _Question nothing and keep on smiling_ seemed to be their recurring motto.

So it would always strike the insomniacs living near the plain little building aptly called "The Brownstone" that well before the crack of dawn, a dim little light would appear on the top floor every night, and had done so for the past two years.

It seemed like no one had the courage to show that they were still up in such a dark, vulnerable little place. Except for whoever sat behind that little cracked window on the top floor.

Some claimed that they saw a purple-haired teenager hastily peer out of it before disappearing just as quickly. Some believed it, others snickered at the idea.

It angered a handful that someone would be so brazen to turn on a light at that time; whoever did it was just asking to be shot and killed by mobsters.

Though they'd **never** admit it, the majority of the residents felt an odd mixture of curiosity, awe, and gratitude. No one else ever got the courage to break the spell of gloom.

Except for whoever lived behind that cracked little window.

Pretentious as it sounds, they thought it was a symbol; a tiny, flickering symbol of courage, rebellion, and maybe idealistic revolution.

Then one day, the light simply went out; the insomniacs waited restlessly for it to quietly radiate, but that time never came. And it would never come.

The residents almost felt a pang of loss. A loss of their glowing symbol of insurgence and courage. Little did they know that at the same time, six other teenagers were mourning over the person that used to dwell behind that cracked little window.


	10. Dollhouse

**It's that time of year again. Halloween is in the air! Most of you have probably outgrown the tradition to trick-or-treat, but it never hurts to get into the "spirit". So as promised, I wrote a little something to do just that.**

**I've been listening to Melaine Martinez lately, and watching Gravity Falls, so they've inspired me to write this to an extent. Ms. Martinez's song, Dollhouse, particularly got my attention. It's quite creepy and slightly unsettling, but the lyrics are well-written and laced with emotion, so I've incorporated it in this entry. **

**I won't give anything else away to keep the story fresh, so happy reading, and happy Halloween!**

* * *

**Hey girl, open the walls, play with your dolls**

**We'll be a perfect family.**

**When you walk away, it's when we really play**

* * *

From the moment she was born, she knew nothing but tenderness and privilege. Even the other wealthy children in the elusive gated town would marvel in awe at the multitude of lavish indulgences she'd receive. Her father would carefully strap her atop a pedigreed mustang, and her mother would brush her ginger hair, recounting a heroic fairytale tale.

But what the outsiders never saw was that otherwise, they'd just hand her a doll to pacify her energy, leaving to do god knows what.

* * *

**No one ever listens, this wallpaper glistens**

**Don't let them see what goes down in the kitchen.**

* * *

"Never go in that room, you hear? The moment you touch that door handle, you're dead to me." he'd reprimand.

At first his words sounded snide, and a crystalline tear rolled down her fresh-faced cheek the first time he said it.

The second time, she simply listened, nodding mechanically.

By the eighth time, she rolled her eyes. It had simply become another one of her father's irritating little eccentricities.

* * *

**Places, places, get in your places**

**Throw on your dress and put on your doll faces.**

* * *

"Theresa, haven't I taught you how to sit still, or do I need to go over this again?" her mother hissed beneath her forced smile.

"And James, how many of these stupid photos do we need to take? It seems like we're posing for these superficial images every day, and for what? To syndicate a wholesome family image?" she muttered at her husband.

Theresa simply bit her lip, looking away.

_Don't argue, don't intervene. Just keep smiling and pose for the picture._

* * *

**Everyone thinks that we're perfect**

**Please don't let them look through the curtains.**

* * *

By her eighteenth birthday, the golden handle seemed to intoxicate her with an unquelled pang of temptation. After the war had ended and she parted with the only friends she genuinely trusted, her life was bland. Tasteless. Meaningless. It seemed like her only purpose was to pose for a picture in her laced dresses, and flash a smile for the cameras. So it wasn't really a surprise that she set her mind to finding out what exactly was behind that famed door after she deemed that she had nothing better to do, and the local newspaper had taken a rain check on their scheduled interview with her and her father.

Once she assured herself that he had left for another conference with a local stockbroker, Theresa quietly slipped out of her room and into the hallway, making her way past framed certificates and beaming family photos.

The metal handle was surprisingly frigid and dull, which gave her the impression that it hadn't been opened in ages, and it took quite a bit of force to break the lock and get the door to open.

From there, it all seemed to happen in an instant.

A box tipped over, and a slew of I.D. cards poured out, dozens of painted dollar bills were hanging by a clothespin above her, and a pile lie next to a dusty printer. And there, hanging prissily on the walls were orchestrated family pictures. Glass shattered, kitchen knife protruding from one, and marker staining the eyes of the family on another in an unnerving X shape.

Call it sheer coincidence, but half-melted candles were right below it. In a perfect circle formation.

* * *

**D-O-L-L-H-O-U-S-E**

**I see things that nobody else sees.**

* * *

Her heart raced, blood roaring in her ears.

So this was her "family". Manipulative frauds and cons that made money off of people's ignorance. Not to mention they were full-blown psychopaths. To say the least, it was a stark contrast to the glowing images of the wholesome family that were displayed so prominently throughout the mansion and on the cover of magazines and newspapers throughout England.

Why hadn't she listened to him? If she hadn't busted into the room so brazenly, she would've continued being naïvely oblivious. Sure, the rest of her life would've been a lie, but she'd rather live one than deal with the painful reality.

After that, it seemed like she completely lost track of time, so when her father unexpectedly walked through the front door, she didn't realize she was still standing in front of the room that was now wide open.

What happened next is something the psychic would take to her grave.

_Literally._


End file.
